


Greyscale

by AngelicSentinel



Series: Colours 'Verse [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Asexual Character, Cloud Finds them Post Meteor, Cloud Strife is a Hot Mess, Depression, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Fuck Or Die, Grey-A, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Cloud/Tifa, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn with Feelings, Schmoop, Self-Esteem Issues, Zack and Aerith are Alive, mentions of Zack/Aerith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 15:58:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicSentinel/pseuds/AngelicSentinel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud's not going to let Zack die, not if he can do anything about it. </p><p>A retelling of Synaesthesia from Cloud's point of view</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greyscale

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Zack is found and nursed back to health after Cloud walks off to Midgar, but otherwise things are exactly the same until Zack rescues Aerith from drowning after being stabbed by Sephiroth. Cloud finds them after METEOR.
> 
> So, this is a full universe now, and there's a lot of fic coming as I've been writing like mad about these characters; Zack has a fic coming about how he survived and the character that saved him, and there's this really cool Tifa + Cloud bonding fic, and how Zack and Aerith fit into Advent Children and everyone's reaction about them being alive and I'm just having a lot of fun in this AU. Also waaaay more porn because this is fun, and I kind of would like to do a fic for every colour in the primary rainbow spectrum. And maybe threesomes. And maybe Time Travel because this _IS_ Final Fantasy VII and every writer in the fandom has to try at least once, right?

Cloud has long since known that he’s just a little broken. Jagged around the edges and prone to cutting those closest to him. Hard not to be, with everything that’s happened to him. And it’s not that he dwells on it, or broods or whatever; in fact, most days he’d just rather forget about it entirely, but it has a way of reminding him when he least expects it. It’s static on the edge of his mind, white noise he can block away, most days.

It's only occasionally the thundersnow builds in his mind, the grief building into a blinding blizzard until he is lost in the white. A clear horizon and then he gets turned around and has to cross the ice-capped howling mountain, filling him with numbness that’s hard to shake. It’s impassable on those days without a little help.

He’s learned to live with it, to push over, to climb the peak with Tifa taking the lead rope, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Sometimes he wonders why he even tries. But then he thinks of Tifa’s warm eyes, Marlene’s soft smile, Denzel’s shy look of determination as Cloud praises him with a quiet, "Well done,” and a ruffle of his hair and he remembers.

The geostigma made it worse, the black ichor beneath his skin finally matching the black boiling of emotion inside of him, sawing away at the thin tendrils of sanity that had grown with the defeat of Sephiroth and METEOR and Tifa’s help in the Lifestream.

Zack coming back had been a balm in some ways, the story almost impossible, how an old friend of his had found him and saved him and smuggled him out to the far reaches of the world where he could heal. Zack's face when he confronted Cloud after he killed Sephiroth a third time, how Cloud had thought he was an illusion and nearly killed Zack for real himself —

_Zack._

Cloud shakes his head and shakes the bitterness and regret from his thoughts. Outside Zack's flat, he rocks on his heels, knocking on the door. There's no answer but his bike’s parked, meaning he's home. He stands out there for a few minutes, waiting for a response when his SOLDIER hearing picks up a faint cry that almost sounds like his name.

Adrenaline pumping through him, he backs up, prepared to bust down the door (it's thick and heavy, but no match for his strength) when he remembers his key.

Fumbling for it, he finally manages to unlock and open the door, and nothing looks out of the way until he hits the den. Zack's splayed out on the sofa, still in his work clothes, black jumper and body armour and fatigue trousers, tossing and turning. _A nightmare._

Cloud shakes him awake, but he comes to too slowly. “Zack! Zack? You with me?” he's a bit wary of waking him up this way, but not afraid to duck a punch.

“What the—Cloud?” Zack says, jolting straight up like he’s been shot, breathing hard.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Cloud says. “You fell asleep on the couch. You were tossing and calling out in your sleep. I kept knocking and you didn’t answer, so when I heard you call out I let myself in with the spare key you gave me. You all right?”

Zack lets out a breath before sagging back into the sofa, leaning his head back against the arm. “It was just a dream.”

“Some dream,” Cloud says, “You haven't had a nightmare in a long time.”

“It wasn't a nightmare,” Zack says,  turning his head to the back of the couch so Cloud can't see his blush. Cloud does anyway. Zack blushes like a sunset, all soft pink that covers his entire face.

“Then what kind of—oh,” Cloud says. _Right, the blush._ Well, he feels stupid for asking. Just a sex dream. Right. Normally, he's not that slow.

“Yeah,” Zack says, pointing to the bulge in his trousers with a grin. “You mind?”

Cloud snorts and shakes his head. Far be it for him to leave a man with blue balls, even though he's never really experienced it himself. He's certainly heard it complained about enough, though, first in Shin-Ra and then with AVALANCHE.

Zack leaves towards the bathroom, and Cloud deliberately doesn't think about what he's doing right now, instead looking at a tiny spiderweb crack in the wall.

Cloud hears a loud thump, and then the sound of things crashing. Right as he is about to go check on Zack, the man staggers to the arch between the living room and the den, clad only in a pair of thin, low-hanging boxers, framing himself between the rooms.

"When will Aerith be home?” Zack says in a mild panic to Cloud. Zack looks like he can barely stand, and he's sweating. Something's very wrong. Cloud rises to his feet and closes the distance between them almost immediately.

“She's out on a run to Rocket Town. Left a couple of days after you did. Still has a week left of travel time. She left a note; guess you hadn't seen it yet.” Cloud says, pointing to the living room. “Probably a voicemail, too.”

“Fuck!” Zack snarls, running his hands through his hair and pacing like a mad dog. “Fuck!”

“Zack?” Cloud says, alarmed now, suspicion confirmed. Neither the language nor the way Zack’s carrying himself are typical of him. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, it was just a _hard_ mission,” Zack grins, but Cloud knows he’s lying, not the least of which is the fact that Zack’s wide smile is more like him baring his teeth and preparing for the worst. At Cloud’s hard stare though, Zack capitulates and continues. “I think she got me with an aphrodisiac.”

Disregarding  the mysterious “she,” it had to be someone on his job, Cloud says “Zack, we need to go to the clinic.” You don't much fuck around with those kind of things, unless you’re a doctor or a medical professional, and Zack looks sick, skin pale, face flushed, sweaty when he was just fine, moments ago. It has to be a high dose. Mako takes care of a hell of a lot. That it hasn't yet taken care of this is telling.

Cloud reaches out a hand, only for Zack to shake his head violently, slapping him away, his hot feverish arm he can feel even through leather.

“No, they can't help. They won't help. I know what it is, goddamn honeypot mission, I’ve encountered it before. A Turk I knew. There must have been counterintelligence at work. I was a target. Fuck, I messed up. I’m such an idiot! At least she's dead. No true antidote,” Zack says almost all in one breath, and he looks miserable. Cloud hates seeing him like this. This is how he looked bleeding out. Scared as fuck but putting on a brave face for Cloud's sake.

Cloud can see right through it, these days.

“How do we fix it?” Cloud asks. “If there's no antidote, can we fix it?” Always practical, Cloud is. Can't fix it, maybe at least they can do damage control. Cloud is so far out of his depth it isn't funny, but he'll be damned if he'll let Zack know.

“Sweating. Waiting it out, if I survive that long, but that hardly ever works. Sex. It's got to be two people, something about how the drug interacts with mana and the Lifestream. Fuck, I'm such an idiot!” Zack repeats, running his hands through his hair, throwing himself back against the wall like he's trying to give himself a concussion, sinking down to the floor.

“Time frame?” Cloud asks, his voice crisp and curt with the knowledge that he might be losing his best friend. It makes his voice tight, but he has no choice else but to ask.

“Thirty-six to forty-eight hours. I'll get more incoherent as it goes on, peaking at twenty-four before I’ll start to normalise. That’s what the Shin-Ra reports said,” Zack says, going for professional, clinical, distant, but sounding so miserable instead that Cloud’s heart lurches.

Cloud really, really doesn't want Zack to die. He's already felt this once, at the knowledge that everything he was was a lie, when he realised just how much Zack had done for him, what Cloud had stolen from him. The loss hit him hard enough to take his breath away, to make him lose the little bit of sanity he had left.

But he presses on with the tenacity of someone who has defeated Sephiroth three times, the force of someone who has had their entire world broken and has had to build it piece by piece, gluing the fragments back together as they went. “Can I get you anything? Water? A cold shower?” Cloud tries to smile, free and clear like he had when Aerith had saved everyone in the church, but he can't, because Zack's in trouble. Deadly trouble, because even after everything they've been through, Zack just couldn't catch a break, could he, no, the universe was too fucking out to get him. And maybe this kind of deflection was something that he learned from Zack, even if it's not funny, not a particularly good attempt.

He's not lying, even though he couched it as a joke. He'd do just about anything to keep him safe, to keep his friend by his side until they both grew old and senile, because if anyone deserved to live, it was Zack. Not Cloud. It didn't matter what the world thought he had done. Fighting Sephiroth was just him fulfilling a responsibility, an obligation. Fixing what he fucked up. Should have killed him right the first time.

Cloud knew the truth, that he was just some backwater kid from Nibelheim that had no idea what the hell he was doing, fucking everything up, getting people killed. People praised him but it wasn't him, just some idea they had of him. He was a fake. He wasn't what they thought he was.

But he's not at all prepared for the way his stomach drops when Zack says, quiet and hoarse and harsh and sweet as sin, his head between his bare knees, “A good fuck would be nice.”

The images burst into his head without warning, pulling Zack up for an kiss, running his hands over those chiseled muscles down down down, taking him against the edge of the bed. Heat surges through his body at the images, and they keep coming, and he can't think. The cold, the nothing Cloud's always felt at the thought of touching other people (so broken broken broken) _explodes,_ the cold mountain turning into a volcano, magma pulsing under his skin as his heart _thrums,_ his pulse jumps and skitters in a way he always thought people exaggerated. He’s never felt adrenaline like this except in a fight. It feels like he's going to die, burst apart at any moment. He forces himself to calm down, because Zack can't mean it, won't mean it, not in the morning, not now, and it gets under his skin, thrumming.

Cloud has never thought of Zack that way before, and the sharp surge of _need_ takes his breath away. If it were any other time, he’d back away, wait for time to process it.

But he studies Zack, takes time to really peruse his head in his arms, the sheen of sweat on his body, every inch of him screaming defeat. Cloud knows he likes men as well as women, at least aesthetically, but he’s never been with a man before. But it’s _Zack,_ and he’s in trouble. And that decides it.

His heart hurts; his skin is tingling, and all his blood has rushed south, leaving him a bit dizzied.

“Okay,” he hears himself say as if from far away. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I can do that.” In fact, he's never wanted anyone the way he wants Zack right now. He bites his lip, a nervous habit he has never been able to break. Then he sets his jaw, bends to Zack's level as he scuttles away like a frightened puppy and reaches out for Zack.

Cloud can't explain the cold fear lancing through him when Zack jerks away. “Don't come near me,” Zack snaps, but Cloud knows he doesn’t mean it. He's just scared and high and out of it, biting the hand. Anyone would.

“Zack, _please,”_ Cloud begs, hoping the longing doesn't show though his voice. He's never felt this way before and it's a hell of a time to spring it on Zack. He feels dirty, and he knows he is taking advantage of Zack. Cloud really doesn't know what to do himself. Like always though, Cloud just plows through it. Doubts are for later. “If I can help you, why not let me?” Cloud says, voice tight with fear and want. “I don't want you to die, not if there's anything I can do about it.” Zack dying a second time would kill him, that he knows for sure. He barely made it through once.

“You said you were ace,” Zack says. “I couldn't feel right, wouldn't feel right. And Tifa...” Cloud stiffens. This will hurt her, and he doesn’t want to do that. It’s an impossible choice. He's never felt more like a fake, like a construct, like an empty puppet. He doesn't know what this means that heat is pooling in his belly, that he's getting hard without any stimulation at all, that the _want_ is blossoming and driving him insane. He thought he was asexual, but maybe he was lying to himself just to feel unique.

He loves Tifa so very much, but his heart has never raced like this for her.

He swallows. “I still have a sex drive,” he half lies. It only decided to work now, he leaves out. “I’m just not attracted sexually to people, Zack.” Not until whatever this is. “Tifa and I make it work. She's happy enough with what we have.” And the sex was okay; great, even, but it wasn't the end all be all. They almost always spent more time on the foreplay than the act itself, getting him worked up. Cloud prefers taking care of her because she so obviously enjoys it where he doesn't. He loves her, he really does, but it clearly hasn't been enough. He's never enough. “And you have Aerith. Besides, you're not...like me,” he says, and he can't hide the sour note in his voice.

“Like you?” Zack asks.

Cloud’s known for a long time that neither sex nor gender were a barrier to how he felt about other people romantically. He might have appreciated them in a distant sense, but the only one he's ever made an effort for is Tifa. He's looked, of course, but it was different, abstract in that he could say they looked nice but never understood what the big deal about sex was. He would go along, listening and repeating what others said just to feel normal. But Zack has never judged him, so he says, “You don't like men,” voice quiet.

“I wouldn't be so sure. That fucking dream,” Zack mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose before giving him a pointed look.

“That dream was about me?” Cloud asks, stunned as another sharp burst of heat pulses through him, and he's fully hard now to the point of pain, just from Zack’s words alone. He shifts uncomfortably in his trousers, the leather pressing tightly against him. “I thought—”

“Who wouldn't? You're pretty as hell, man. I’ve wanted to make like bunnies for a long time, all right? Since I saw you in that photo dressed like a woman, okay?” And while Cloud doesn't really get the pretty part, what Zack is implying is a long-standing attraction. Tifa had shown the photo to Zack nearly first thing after he and Aerith had stumbled into Seventh Heaven without so much as a by-your-leave. Tifa, Aerith, and Cloud standing together dressed to the nines, Cloud with a wig and that damned purple dress.

“Zack—” Cloud begins, not sure what else to say.

“Fuck! Just kill me now!” Zack shudders, sweating, cock still tenting his boxers, the head just poking out (Cloud can't bring himself to look away). Zack punches a hole in the wall, causing his knuckles to bleed.

“Zack,” Cloud says again, trying to regain his equilibrium, forcing his eyes away from Zack's crotch. “I can help you! Look, I know I don't fit your preference—”

“Goddamn it, Cloud, don't you understand _you_ are my preference? You and your nice round ass and your thighs, oh my god, I could get lost in those thighs, and the way your muscles play across your back when you move, but especially when you're fighting with your Fusion Swords. Zack says, his face pained and manic, his fists clenched, blood dripping through his right fingers. “It's why we can't do this!”

 _"Oh."_ Cloud understands now. Zack _is_ sexually attracted to him. He takes a deep breath. “Aerith and Tifa would understand it's to save your life,” Cloud says. He feels himself flush, and just knows it shows up on his pale skin. “We’d never have to do this again,” he says as a caveat.

“Exactly,” Zack says, looking away. “We’d never have to do this again, but this time I’d know what I was missing every time I looked at you,” he says, misery clear in his tone.

“Zack,” Cloud breathes. He's vibrating so hard, there's something building in him, a strong warmth, causing his throat to close, and his cock is straining against the leather, just begging to be touched.

“Quit saying my name like that before I do something we’ll both regret.” Zack says, trying one last time to push him away, but Cloud will have none of it, shifting his body closer instead.

“Zack,” Cloud murmurs again, pulling his arms away from his knees, nudging his thighs aside, crawling between his legs and pushing Zack back. Cloud kisses him, just a gentle press of lips, almost begging for permission. Zack near whimpers but kisses him back, leaning back on the floor so Cloud is nearly on top of him, pulling Cloud into his lap, running his hands over his shoulders and across his back and through his hair, scraping his nails against Cloud's scalp in a way that sends tingles down his spine.

Cloud returns the favor by cupping Zack’s face in his hands, nibbling his bottom lip. “Cloud,” Zack says thickly, pulling away a bit. “If we start, I won't be able to stop,” he says, voice laced with want. _Zack_ won't be able to stop? Cloud's the one that's in too deep already, addicted to the sensation Zack stirs in him. No wonder people treat sex like a big deal. Cloud doesn't know how they don't spontaneously combust feeling this way all the time.

But Zack’s looking for reassurance, so Cloud says, “Shhh. Don’t worry. Let me save you like you saved me,” and runs his hand down Zack's cheek, his calluses catching the stubble of Zack's jaw.

Zack whimpers again as Cloud kisses the corner of his lips. “Cloud, _ungh,_ you don't have to do this,” he says, nearly crying in pleasure as Cloud bites his ear, tugging on his earring just enough to hurt with his teeth.

“I want to,” Cloud says, kissing along the lines of his jaw, sucking on his pulse point and the juncture of his shoulder before moving down to his muscled torso. Zack is as perfect here as he is anywhere else, and despite the lack of breasts, it’s not really too different from Tifa. She’s just as muscled, just as tough, and both her and Zack’s muscles under skin feel like liquid steel. Only, he’s never felt this kind of sensation, not from touch alone. Cloud _burns_ where he and Zack touch, the heat pooling directly in his stomach.  

Cloud spends a moment on the angry bullet scars that dot most of Zack’s chest, kissing each and every one, and there are dozens, lapping at each one tenderly, almost as if he could make them go away through force of will alone. This may be the only chance he gets to do this, and like hell he’s going to waste it by going too fast.

“This is a far cry from hiding you in the Wastes, or jumping in front of bull _—ah—_ b-bullets,” Zack chokes out as Cloud moves farther down, running his hands along his sides. Zack doesn’t have breasts that peak, but his nipples are just as sensitive as Tifa’s, if not more. He focuses on them for just a moment, wetting them, blowing cool air across them, nipping at one while Zack nearly loses what he’s saying, which to be honest kind of makes Cloud a little proud of himself.

He keeps moving steadily down, tracing Zack’s ample muscles with his tongue and the thin trail of hair running from his chest to his navel. Zack tenses, and Cloud can feel him breathing against his tongue, can feel the muscles ripple, which is kind of amazing.  “But no less serious,” Cloud says to his stomach, tracing the lines of Zack's abdomen with his tongue before dipping inside his navel. Then he moves lower to his favorite part of the male body, kissing the lines of Zack’s hip bones, tracing them with his tongue, tonguing the light hair above his elastic band that’s just barely over Zack’s erection.

Zack’s trying to keep it together, but Cloud knows he wants to buck, to seek out that friction that’s so tantalisingly close. Far be it for Cloud to disappoint. Zack lets out a controlled breath to steady himself, but he’s not fooling anyone. “You know what you're doing?” He jokes, but he can’t hide the longing.

“Theoretically,” Cloud says. He knows how to masturbate, and Tifa likes going down on him since it's one of the few ways she can consistently get him to come. Can’t be too hard to figure it out the reverse. Not like his first attempt at cunnilingus. Now _that_ had been embarrassing. Tifa had been very patient with him.  “How hard could it be?”

“Very hard,” Zack says as he grabs Cloud's hand and links their fingers together, squeezing them tightly. “Very, very hard. Painfully hard.”

Cloud smiles. That’s just like Zack. Deflecting with humour. “Ha ha,” he mock laughs. He works Zack’s boxers off his legs, leaving him bare to the world. Then he leans back down, licking a little precome from Zack's tip, ever so slowly.

“Oh, _fuck,”_ Zack says, bucking his hips. Well, that was as much permission as any. Cloud takes him into his mouth, one hand in his squeezing for reassurance, the other hand on the base of Zack's cock, stroking up and down, matching the rhythm of the bobbing of his head, tucking his teeth behind his lips.

He doesn’t think he can deep throat him, not just yet, he’ll have to leave that sort of experimentation later (if there is a later) when Zack’s not dying, but he tries his best to take in as much as possible, mimicking what he likes to have done to him.

Cloud massages Zack’s balls, rolling them in his hand as Zack hisses before moving his other hand up to Zack’s cock to keep it steady, to keep it in his control. He swirls his tongue around the head as Zack keens, tasting the sweet salt of his skin mixed with the bitterness of his essence. It’s a heady feeling, seeing Zack lose control under him like this. He runs his tongue up Zack’s length sideways, so painfully slowly. Cloud encircles him with his lips, taking in the tip, gently massaging the slit with his tongue. Zack instinctively thrusts in response, shuddering, encased in heat. Zack’s eyes are half-lidded as he stares down at Cloud, dazed, which drives Cloud on. He _needs_ Zack to come undone.

His tongue traces patterns against his flesh as he traps Zack between his sinful tongue and the roof of his mouth, applying gentle pressure. He moves his head up and down sinuously, faster and faster, using his other hand to keep him from coming immediately, not that it would matter seeing as how Zack’s been consistently hard ever since he woke up.

Cloud licks the underside from tip to base, hollowing his cheeks to increase the friction. Cloud feels Zack shiver, feels his cock twitch in warning, but he doesn’t care; Zack’s taste will be a reward for how hard he’s worked.

“Cloud!” Zack calls his name in warning, fingers finding Cloud’s again.

Cloud ignores him. He knows what's coming. He's tasted himself plenty of times; it’s a little bitter, but he's had worse. Besides, if Tifa could do it then so could he. Zack calling his name feels better than his hands on him, and like hell he’s going to leave anything unfinished.

 _“Gaia,_ Cloud!” Zack's shout as he comes is music to Cloud's ears. He grabs Cloud's hair, pulling it sharply as he thrusts but Cloud doesn't mind, focusing instead on working his throat, tasting the wetness and salt and sweat and heat, swallowing his essence.

“Cloud…” Zack says again, dazed, satiated, but there's something still desperate in his tone that Cloud doesn't like, and Zack’s cock hasn't softened at all.

Cloud pulls away, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and tries to ignore the way Zack shifts his body towards him, not acknowledging the unconscious whimper. “What's wrong, Zack?”

“It’s just getting worse,” Zack says panting, breathing hard, curling his hands into fists as if he could break the world.

Cloud knew it wouldn’t be that easy. The world wasn't that nice. “All right. Then we'll keep at it. Until it gets better,” he says, determined. They have a long road ahead of them to get through this, but he’ll be damned if he'll let Zack walk it alone.

“We?” Zack says, and it has something of incredulity in it. Cloud wonders why he has to spell it out, after Zack carried his comatose body around for a year.

“We're in this together. Now come on, let's get you to bed. Better than waiting it out on the floor. That’s got to be uncomfortable.” Cloud sits back on his heels, but Zack’s attention is entirely focused on him. Cloud shifts under his intense gaze—there’s something behind the haze of lust he can't define just yet—and stands up.

Zack does as well before Cloud can offer him a hand, and nearly falls back against the wall. “Cloud? We need to keep touching. It's draining my life force to metabolise. And yours.”

He knows something's up, he felt the pull. “Good thing I’ve got a ton, then,” Cloud says. The best thing he can do right now is put Zack at ease, so he treats it flippantly, like it doesn't matter.

Cloud threads his arm underneath Zack’s, lifting him up, letting him lean against him as Cloud bears most of the weight. It reminds him a little of hazy-half memories of Zack doing the same when he couldn't move, poisoned out of his mind: bathing him, feeding him, cutting his hair. His support. His rock. Something tense in him eases at being able to do this for Zack.

Of course, that's when it goes tits up as Zack decides the physical contact is exactly what he needs. Cloud's hard against Zack's thigh, Zack’s is pressed somewhere against his stomach, and with the leather that can’t be comfortable, when he starts to grind against him with urgency.

Cloud shifts and grabs Zack's hands placing them on his ass to keep him from doing something stupid with them. They have to get to that bed; Cloud has had sex on hard surfaces but it doesn't exactly make it comfortable, and he doesn't know how long this drug is going to last. A bed will be best for all involved.

Cloud cuts off a surprised moan as Zack’s hands squeeze him there.  Zack uses the surprise to great advantage, tucking Cloud’s head below his chin and melding them together, holding Cloud to him tightly. It would be better if Cloud weren't wearing clothes, Cloud thinks.

Zack tries to thrust again, but he must have caught the zipper on his tunic because he lets out a strangled sound of pain. No, Cloud realises as he looks down, Zack's starting to chafe.

“Zack?” Cloud asks.

Zack presses his face into Cloud's shoulder. “Cloud, this is hell, I don't think—” Something in Zack's voice is breaking.

Cloud just tightens his arms around Zack’s back. “I've got you Zack, c’mon. Just a bit further, we can make it, let's go.” He shifts around, leans to the side to carry Zack's weight towards his bedroom.

It's a slow journey. Every step Zack loses a piece of himself as the lust grows and grows; twice Zack forces him up against the wall, desperate for relief, but as much as Cloud wants to, he can't let him do that just yet, forcing him back and tucking him under his arms. He does make sure he and Zack share bare skin.

It's an eternity before they make it to Cloud's room, but as soon as they reach the door, Cloud lets go. Zack immediately surges forward in a hard kiss, biting the bottom of Cloud's lip, knocking him back on the bed. They both fall and their teeth clack together, but Cloud manages to manoeuvre around underneath him so he's not dangling off the edge of the bed as Zack straddles him, friction he's been wanting as their cocks line up.

It's still not exactly the most comfortable position as Zack nips at his mouth, demanding access that Cloud freely gives, turning his head so they can drink more thoroughly from one another. Zack's tongue maps the inside of his mouth, thrusting with his tongue, with his hips.

And the _sensation_. It's the most intense sexual experience Cloud has ever had in his life, even through his leather trousers. Cloud closes his eyes and just lets himself feel; his own arms pinned down by one of Zack's at the wrists, the warm weight of Zack sending jolts of pleasure through him every time he rocks, their tongues twisting together in an open kiss.

Cloud tries to flip them over, to get on top, to regain some control, but then both Zack's hands move to undress him, unzipping his tunic, and hell yeah, he's all for that. The thought of finally feeling Zack skin-on-skin moves him to help, arching and shrugging out of the leather and tossing it to the side as Zack scrapes his nails on his bare sides, causing him to arch his back again, this time in pleasure.

Then Zack kisses a trail from his mouth to his throat, scraping his teeth against his skin at the sensitive spot just under his ear and sucking. Cloud tilts his head back with a gasp, baring his throat to Zack to give him better access. Zack hums appreciatively against against his throat, the vibrations of his lips sending a thrill through Cloud. He works his way across Cloud’s chest, leaving a trail of rough kisses down to the crook of his shoulder and across his collarbone, down his chest.

Zack pauses for a moment, staring down at Cloud, who feels a little bare under his scrutiny. He tweaks Cloud’s nipple, scraping it with a thumbnail, but Cloud has never been all that sensitive there. So he thinks, anyway, before Zack kisses one, grazing it with his teeth. He blows cold air on it and the feeling makes Cloud tremble and a jolt of pleasure shoot straight to his groin, where Cloud can't help but thrust against Zack again.

Zack must have finally had enough as he goes to work on Cloud’s leather trousers. Cloud helps him as much as he’s able until he’s naked underneath him, the trousers discarded carelessly in the floor, and finally they’re touching skin-to-skin, and Zack crawls up so they’re touching more intimately, their cocks sliding together. Cloud could come from this alone, Zack grinding into him, his pupils blown, his eyes focused on Cloud’s and Cloud’s alone.

But before he even gets close, Zack moves back, nudging his thighs aside, giving him a once-over with half-lidded eyes. Cloud takes a deep breath and holds it, curious about what Zack going to do, but follows his direction so he’s spread out before him. He wonders if Zack’s going to take him yet, and the idea sends a thrill of pleasure that suffuses through his entire body. He’s only a little disappointed when Zack turns his attention to Cloud’s thighs instead—and oh wow he wasn’t kidding about that obsession with his thighs, not with focus like that— but he’s not complaining as Zack traces the outline of the muscle with his tongue, nipping and biting in places before moving to the other one.

He pulls back, reaching over Cloud to rummage in the nightstand, and Cloud’s skin tingles because he knows what’s coming, what has to be coming, and he’s glad he already had some lube here because in his arousal and the haze of unfamiliar feeling he’d forgotten they’d need it if they were going to go this far. Granted, he can’t believe they’re going to go this far, but it’s certainly not unwelcome.

Zack slicks his hand like he knows what he’s doing, and Cloud's mouth goes dry, and he stops breathing as Zack rubs his hands together to warm it before touching him so very intimately, thrusting a finger inside him, working to stretch him. Cloud breathes in at the touch. A second finger follows not soon after, and even that much makes Cloud feel full. It’s so different from doing it himself, and it had never been Tifa’s thing.

Zack spreads his fingers out, working to stretch him further, before curling and stroking something inside Cloud that makes him cry out, his fingers curling into the sheets. Zack uses the distraction to slip a third finger in and it's almost too much as Zack hits that point again and again. Not constantly, but just enough to keep Cloud on edge, his cock hard, his stomach tight. Cloud can't help it, he starts moving down on Zack's hand and angling as Zack thrusts into him, the pleasure blinding, a far cry from the dull emptiness he's used to feeling.

Zack lets out a pleased noise, massaging him in encouragement, still working with one hand while the other gropes his ass and runs between with the lube making sure there is more than enough to be comfortable. And something in Cloud not lost to the pleasure wonders about that, that even in this overwhelming haze of arousal, pain, and lust, Zack is taking the time to prepare him properly. Cloud's just grateful. This is one avenue he doesn't have much experience in, save what he's done to himself, and it's never felt like this.

A fourth finger, stretching him impossibly wide, and soon Zack slips his dripping cock to Cloud's entrance, pressing against the ring of muscle. Cloud's a little wary of barebacking, but then he remembers that Zack needs touch to soothe the roaring poison inside of him, and there’s no more intimate touch than this. Zack enters him with a long, slow thrust that feels like he’s splitting him apart. Cloud’s full but it doesn’t hurt, just a sort of pressure that’s not bad.  Zack waits until Cloud has adjusted, hands on Cloud’s hips, before he starts moving, and Cloud knows how much that costs him, how much it must pain him to hold back like that.

Zack thrusts faster, twisting his hips just so that every thrust sends a sharp bolt of pleasure down Cloud's spine. Cloud’s so close. “Zack, _please_!” he begs, losing all sense. Cloud grabs his cock and begins to stroke in time to Zack’s thrusts, desperate for some relief.

“Zack! _Ungh!_ ” Cloud shouts his name as he comes _hard_ in the most intense orgasm he has ever had in his life, white splattering across his stomach and thighs. Zack, neglecting his own journey to completion, pulls out and cleans him up with his tongue before he rests his head against Cloud's navel, his hot breath a sharp warmth against Cloud's skin.

“Oh fuck, _Cloud_ , what have I done?” Zack says after a long moment, voice filled with disbelief and panic. He's done nothing wrong, so Cloud decides to be a little glib, since fucking Cloud is exactly what he has done.

“Fucked me senseless, I think,” Cloud says, still in a post-orgasmic haze. He sits up, stretching his arms over his head, achy but in a good way. “I don't think I’m gonna be able to walk. Feel better?”

“Cloud, I—” Zack sounds so miserable. Cloud can't let him continue to think that he's done anything wrong. There's nothing wrong about this, not when it saves Zack's life.

Cloud cuts him off, putting his hands on Zack's face, looking straight into his eyes. He has to make him see. “—Didn't do anything I didn't want.” Cloud leans forward kissing him softly, which Zack returns. “In fact, I should be asking if you're okay. You didn't have a choice. I did.” Zack didn't have a choice, still doesn't. And it isn't fair.

“Cloud,” Zack breathes, and there's something like affection, like relief in it. It's wonderful.

Cloud smiles and decides to quote him to drive the point home. “You keep saying my name like that I might do something we’ll both regret.”

“Oh _Cloud,”_ Zack says and leans his head against Cloud's, so that both of them are breathing the same air. It should be heavy and hard to breathe but it's not.

Cloud shifts and notices the mess they’ve made of themselves. He'd also come here straight from a delivery, so he's covered in travel dust and sweat from hard riding.  “A shower, I think. We're pretty gross,” Cloud says, still with his head against Zack's as his foundation, his anchor.

“Yeah,” Zack says. “You first, or?” Zack's trembling, trying to keep it together. The lust isn't overpowering him any more, but he's still drugged, and this close, Cloud can see the signs of strain beginning to show.

“Well I was hoping together,” Cloud says, frowning. Has Zack forgotten that touch is vital to him right now? He reminds him. “You need touch, remember?”

“I’ll be fine for a little bit, but it’ll come back, and be worse. I can't believe I let this happen to me,” Zack says. Cloud tightens his arm around Zack, who responds by tightening his own.

“Someone did it to you. You didn’t ‘let’ anything happen. It's a good thing I came over,” Cloud says. “I can't imagine what you would have done if you were here by yourself.” Just the thought of it makes Cloud violently ill. Zack would have been dying all alone and he would have never known if he hadn't come by.

“It wouldn't be pretty. Cloud, I just—” Zack takes in a deep shuddering breath, trying to steady himself, then grabs Cloud's hand, threading their fingers together. “Thank you.”

Cloud presses the side of his face against Zack's, for the warmth, for the comfort. Zack has the slightest hint of stubble that scratches against his face. “I thought I lost you once. I'm not going to lose you again.”

With that solemn pronouncement, he leaves the bed, rummaging through his discarded clothes for a restore materia and his PHS.

“I've got to call Tifa,” he says by way of explanation because he owes Zack that much. “While there’s a break. Might not have a chance later. Someone's got to watch Denzel. He’s a good kid and good at looking after himself, but I'd feel better knowing someone's keeping an eye on him. ”

“She gonna be mad?” Zack asks, and there's something in his tone, almost nonexistent but there, that Cloud doesn't like the sound of.

Cloud lets out a breath. “She'll understand. She knows the kind of person I am.” And Tifa has always has been supportive and understanding, even when it cost her. Or especially then. Like she was making up for when they were kids.

“Flaky as all hell?” And yeah, Cloud guesses he deserves that, what with what happened with the geostigma. He's always been a coward. He's always run rather than facing his problems (broken broken _broken_ ) and it shows.

Cloud tries to smile, but it’s hard. He can’t get his face to work right. “Something like that. She's…she’s great, Zack.” Zack shoots him a look at that, and there’s something dark in his eyes behind the haze that Cloud can’t define.

Zack says, “You gonna get into this?” he said, gesturing to the both of them. The tone is still there, and it grates on his nerves.

“You mind?” Cloud hopes he doesn’t, carefully keeping his voice even. He hates lying to Tifa. He will for Zack, though, and both of them know it.

“No,” Zack says, voice light, but again, it has a tone Cloud has never heard from him before, almost like bitterness. But that can’t be right. Zack’s above him, always been above him, always the ideal Cloud has striven to achieve once Sephiroth let him down, so much that he became Zack's simulacrum.

“Then, yeah.” He presses a button and rings the Seventh Heaven. Tifa picks up right away. She always does when it’s his number. Cloud supposes he should feel guilty about that. He calls more often now than he did with the geostigma, but not enough. Never enough. “I need you to keep an eye on Denzel tonight and possibly tomorrow.”

“I’d be happy to. But why, Cloud?” Tifa asks, picking up on his tone of voice instantly. She’s always anticipated his needs.

“Zack's in trouble,” he says.

Tifa gives a long-suffering sigh. “What kind of trouble? Legal? Medical? Did you destroy more property sparring again? You know you should do that in Midgar proper.”

“Medical,” he says.

“But you could take him to the hospital, and you know Jacen runs that clinic—”

Cloud cuts her off, wincing. “I can't.”

Tifa is instantly on alert. “Is it a SOLDIER thing? Is he hurt? It’s not geostigma, is it?”

“No, drugged. He needs me.”

“Drugged? There’s not much that can drug a SOLDIER whose blood is practically mako, and you say you can’t take him to the clinic, there’s only so many reasons that,” Tifa trails off, and then lets out a little gasp. “Ifrit’s Kiss. It’s worse on those with mako. You’re—” and here she swallows so hard Cloud can hear it over the line. “You’re helping him through it, aren’t you?” She says in a small voice. “That’s what you mean by him needing you.”

Tifa’s always been smart. “Yes...actually. How—”

“Remember that creep with the beard that wouldn’t leave Marlene alone? He killed one of our regulars with it, the pretty brunette that kind of looked like me. She was found locked up in his home, looked like a skeleton. I made him suffer,” she said, with dark satisfaction. “I can’t believe he used my bar to do it, but there's only so many things that fit. No doctors, no clinic, and a drugged SOLDIER? Cloud, I'm so sorry.”

“I see.” Cloud says shaking his head. People are sick. And this drug must be a lot more common than he thought.

“Are you alright, Cloud? Are you taking care of yourself? This can’t be easy on you, either,” Tifa asks, concern in her tone overriding everything else.

“Of course,” Cloud says. Tifa knows that’s not the truth. He’s made of fragments. But it’s the only lie she’ll ever let him tell.

“Isn’t there anything you can do to stop it that’s not,” Tifa stops a brief moment before getting the courage to continue, “Not sex. Someone else?”

“I can’t do that, not when I can help.” Not to Zack who carried his burdens, who made sure he was safe, who has saved him again and again.

“This is how I lose you, isn’t it?” Cloud says nothing as Tifa takes a deep breath that rattles across the line. “Okay,” she says. “Okay,” she says again. “I can live with it so long as it’s Zack. I knew this was coming. I knew it as soon as I saw how you look at him when you think no one is watching,” she laughs, but it almost sounds like one of relief, rather than a rueful one. “Or how he looks at you.”

The ground is shifting. Cloud doesn’t know where to stand because that can’t be true. Zack can’t look at him like that. It’s impossible. Numb, Cloud says, “Tifa, I’m his friend. Who else?”

“Me,” Tifa says, “But I don’t think he’ll go for it. Do me a favour and ask anyway, would you? It’ll prove something to you.”

“I’ll ask,” Cloud promises, the world still spinning. Lust is one thing. What Tifa is talking about is something completely different.

“Cloud?” Tifa says, “I love you. I want you to be happy more than anything else. You’ve been through so much and—Well, you deserve it. More than anyone. We’ll talk about it when you get back. Go save Zack. But don’t forget to take care of yourself, Cloud.”

Her benediction. Cloud struggles to find his bearings, barely managing to choke out, “I will.” He closes his PHS, tossing it on top of his clothes, holding the restore materia tightly in his hand.

Zack raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t quite have it to an art form like Sephiroth did, but it's impressive. “Problems with the missus?”

Cloud blinks back tears. “No. She understands. She's familiar with it. Someone was spiking women's drinks with it. Tifa caught him at Seventh Heaven. A person died before, during the ‘stigma.”

“So much for controlled substance,” Zack mutters, looking down, hands in his lap.

“She said she wouldn't mind...if you prefer—” Cloud says, sitting down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to grab Zack's wrist.

“Not this again, Cloud. I'm grateful and all, and I won't deny that it's tempting, but,” here he takes a deep breath. “You're the one I trust more than anyone else. I'm glad it's you,” Zack says, running the back of his fingers down Cloud's face so tenderly, stroking his cheek. _Fuck_ , Cloud thinks. _Tifa was right._  Cloud can’t avoid what’s staring him in the face. Maybe it’s not just the drug. Maybe Cloud’s not just a convenient outlet.

“We'll still be friends, right?” Cloud asks, heart raw, desperate. “After all this?” He doesn’t think he can take it if this ruins everything.

Zack must pick up on his distress, as tired as he is, as he grabs his hand again. “No matter what. Friends to the end. Always.”

Cloud leans over and kisses him again, nibbling on the bottom of his lip, delving his tongue into his mouth. It’s a slow, languid sort of kiss, but Zack’s trembling has turned into full on wobbling, and he feels too damn hot. “Come on. Up you get,” Cloud says gently, wrapping his unoccupied hand around Zack’s shoulder.

“Okay,” Zack says, and he’s as easy to move as a rag-doll as Cloud boosts him up, holding his weight. They shuffle down to the bathroom, Cloud placing the materia in the sink, and the bathroom feels tiny with both of them inside, seeing as how they’re two full grown men. Cloud sits Zack down on the toilet before sliding the door open and lifting him inside where Zack splays out at the bottom of the tub, leaned back against the cold tile, still boneless and completely exhausted.

The tiny shower makes the bathroom look spacious. Cloud takes a breath, grabs the restore, then climbs in after him, sliding the door shut, standing in front of the shower head to block the cold water from hitting Zack. The icy spray makes Cloud hiss and arch his back, but it soon warms.

Cloud’s not going to lie; he’s a little worried about how listless Zack is, how unresponsive, even though he’s still awake. Still, they’re in here so he might as well just do what he came there to do. He places the restore on the empty soap dish, carefully so it doesn’t roll off, grabs a cloth, and soaps it up and starts washing himself, brisk and efficient.

It’s a little weird, doing this. Cloud doesn’t remember more than bits and pieces of their time on the run, but he imagines it must have been a little something like this, and his respect for Zack grows exponentially. It would have been so much easier just to let him go, just to drop the dead weight, but Zack refused to do it, and that’s what got him killed. (Nearly, but Cloud hadn't known that until later)

His eyes grow hot again, and he squeezes them closed so tightly that it hurts. When the feeling doesn’t go away, he turns to the showerhead and leans against the wall, regulating his breathing carefully, fists against the tile as he lets the shower pound the hot water into his closed eyes until the feeling finally leaves, down into the drain where it belongs.

That settled, he turns to Zack to wash him, starting at his neck and working his way down. Zack is still burning hot, but he leans back to give Cloud better access. There’s something quiet and soothing about this, about taking care of Zack. It’s only a small bit of what he owes him, Cloud knows. He’s just happy he gets the chance to do this. He’s just got to remember that Zack is alive, and as long as he is alive, they both can make it through this.  Cloud’s  hands on Zack linger as he washes him slowly. Zack makes a pleased noise as Cloud traces the hard lines of his body. Cloud can feel the heat of his skin through the cloth, and he feels himself start to stir again. Zack’s still hard, and as Cloud reaches his cock, he remembers the materia, grabs it from the dish, and he casts a strong cure.

That makes Zack jolt up from sleepy oblivion. “Cloud, what did you—oh. Healing materia?” He says as his eyes dart to Cloud’s hand.

“Thought it might help,” Cloud says, shrugging, before placing it back in the soap dish. He tugs at Zack’s taller body, making him lean forward, and slips in behind him. It’s a tight fit, but he slots his legs over Zack’s, and pulls Zack back against his chest. The shampoo is within easy access, and he pours a bit, scraping at Zack’s scalp with his fingernails, working in the soap, an easy excuse for running his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah. That feels downright heavenly,” Zack says, groaning, which sends heat pooling directly to Cloud’s stomach. He knows Zack can feel him half-hard against his back, but he doesn’t say anything, just snuggles back further on Cloud's chest. Cloud continues stroking his hair, leaning them forward to rinse off in the spray when he finishes his hair and then conditions it.

There’s something precious and infinitely fragile about this moment, and Cloud doesn’t want it to end. He wraps his arms around Zack, holding him tight for a long time, hoping that his touch will alleviate some of the burden. He hasn’t forgotten that Zack’s dying, that he’s fighting for his life, that this is in some part unwilling. He’s got to be better, he’s got to be as good as Zack, he’s got to save him. It’ll kill him if he doesn’t.

He looks down after another few minutes only to find that Zack’s breathing has evened out and he’s dead asleep. Cloud doesn’t want to wake him up, but he also doesn’t want Zack to drown, so he sighs and shakes Zack, pushing him forward so he can extricate himself.  “Come on, Fair-weather, time to get up.”

“Cloud,” Zack says blearily, still half asleep. “Don't hate me.”

 _Okay, where the_ fuck _did that come from?_ “Zack, why would I?”

“It's just, you don't want—” he starts, and oh boy, there are a million ways Zack could finish that, and none of them are good. Not to mention yeah, Cloud wants. He wants so much it goddamn _hurts_.

Cloud tells him so. “You don't know what I want. Right now, it's you. Only you. I'd like it better if you were safe, happy, and healthy, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“I might lose my mind. I might hurt you.” Is this about Sephiroth? Cloud can’t find the source of this sudden insecurity, the only thing he can do is try to reassure him.

“Not on purpose. Anything else we can get through. We always do.” And really, they’ve been through everything, each thinking that the other one was dead, through Nibelheim and the labs and everything. Zack would never hurt him on purpose in his right mind, and anything else he can deal with. They can deal with it together.  

“Cloud…” Zack says, voice filled with wonder and affection.

“C’mon, Zack, let's get you towelled off.” Cloud says, shutting the water off. He slides open the door and grabs a towel, drying himself off before grabbing the other one for Zack. He’s not sure which one’s which, but it doesn’t matter.

He pulls Zack to a shaky stand, and even though the bottom of the bath is rough, Zack’s leg gives out and he nearly slips as Cloud catches him. Cloud helps him out of the tub, and Zack stands there shivering like a wet puppy.  Cloud shakes his head and dries him off ever so gently, then slings his arm underneath his shoulder and walks him back to Cloud’s bedroom, supporting him until he sits on the edge of the bed.

Cloud didn’t realise it before, but Zack looks terribly pale, his face drawn and his eyes pinched. This look is more than exhaustion; Ifrit’s Kiss is finally showing its physical effect as it consumes Zack from the inside out. Cloud can’t help but be worried. _Maybe food will help it metabolise?_

“Do you think you could get any food down?” Cloud asks. Zack shakes his head.“Do you think I could leave you alone long enough to get you something?” Zack shakes his head again; nearly falling over from the strain of moving his head. “All right, we'll just get to it then,” Cloud says, prepared to stretch out and lay them both down, to kiss him, to do _something_ , but Zack falls back against the mattress, passing out.

“Zack!” he shouts frantically, shaking his limp body. Zack doesn’t move. Cloud’s never been so scared in his entire life. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!_ “Zack!” He says again. “Don’t you fucking do this to me, don’t you fucking dare, you asshole!” Cloud shouts at him, cursing like Cid on a good day. The shower was a stupid idea; he should have known when Zack was so tired, they should have stayed in bed, maybe the materia made it worse; this is Cloud, grade-A fuckup, on the job as usual fucking himself and everyone around him over. Cloud uses his fingertips to slap Zack’s cheek until it turns red. “Wake up, c’mon Zack, don’t do this to me, you can’t do this to me, C’mon Zack, wake up, Zack.”

“Cloud?” Zack groans, slurring his name, and Cloud could kiss him he’s so relieved. “I feel it now, like a sick yellow wave. It's going to hit. I don't want to die, Cloud,” Zack says in a quiet, small voice, half-awake. Cloud thought he was half dead already, so this is an improvement. Cloud doesn’t want to know how close he came to losing him. He can’t let it happen again. He’s got to do something.

“You're not going to die, Zack. I won't let you. Hang in there,” Cloud says, grabbing Zack’s shoulder to keep himself from flying apart into a million pieces. Cloud grits his teeth. He’s got to keep it together for Zack’s sake.

But Zack starts tossing and turning, threatening to throw himself off the bed, his eyes staring past Cloud, and Cloud knows the worst is yet to come. Cloud takes a deep breath, climbs between Zack’s spread legs and pins Zack’s hands behind his head so he doesn’t hurt himself in his mindless thrashing.

Cloud grunts as he feels a strong pull against his life force, coming from every place he and Zack are touching. He growls as Zack’s skin surges hotter; Cloud feels like he’s going to burn, like they’re both going to be set aflame by touch alone. He cries out as Zack thrusts against Cloud's cock again and again from tip to balls, and they’re frotting with abandon, heat filling them both, rutting because Zack’s life depends on it and he’s going to be damned if he’ll let him die. He’s going to be damned if he dies.

Cloud rocks hard, pumping against him, cock already weeping with precome making the glide of skin-on-skin easier. He tosses his head back, one hand drifting down to keep them together, to stroke them to keep the friction tight, while the other hand keeps him angled just right above Zack.

With his hands now free, Zack reaches up and pulls Cloud down to his mouth, exploring with a wandering tongue before tracing the raised scar on Cloud’s chest and the matching one on his back before splaying his hand on the skin of Cloud’s stomach.

Zack surges up, bringing both of them on their knees. Zack pulls away from the kiss, “Cloud, _please_ ,” he begs, voice broken, reaching out where they meet, grabbing Cloud’s cock and stroking, stroking, stroking. Cloud doesn’t know what to do; whatever they’re doing is not enough, he feels the pull even stronger now and if he’s feeling it this much it must be driving Zack to madness and he _doesn’t know what to do_.

Zack bucks against him again and Cloud inhales sharply as Zack strokes them both, and Cloud wraps his hand around Zack and they move together as one, fighting back the drain with everything that they have, until Zack stops, leaning against Cloud, shivering, shaking, breath heavy against his chest.

“New plan,” Cloud pants, sweating from exertion and from the drain. This isn’t working; it has to be penetrative sex, and Zack is in no condition to take him. It will have be the other way around. Well, Cloud always learns best on the go.

Cloud keeps his hand on Zack’s chest, keeps them touching with as much skin as possible, tracing the bullet hole scars while the other keeps pumping him, Zack’s hips bucking desperately, looking for release he can’t find.

The Fusion Swords are evidence that Cloud is pretty good at multitasking with his hands, so he has no problem continuing to stroke them together with one hand while the other reaches in the nightstand and pulls out a condom, ripping the pack with his teeth and rolling in on with his free hand. Cloud’s not planning on coming until both of them do, and he’d like Zack to stay at least a little clean. “Just a sec,” Cloud says, rubbing Zack down the way Zack did him, a thrill shooting through him as Zack opens himself up wide.

Cloud slicks his fingers and himself down with the lube tracing a wet line down Zack's perineum from balls to entrance, experimental, mimicking what Zack had done earlier. Cloud prepares him, his movements a little unpractised, stretching him. He feels awkward, uncertain, but he doesn’t let the doubt get to him. He goes slowly, curling his finger like Zack did, and he’s rewarded with a loud moan, full and throaty, Zack closing his eyes and twisting his fingers in the sheets. Stroking him inside, Cloud adds another, curling his finger just right, and soon after, more.

Cloud takes a deep breath, nervous, but sure. He moves in slowly, the sensation unfamiliar but not alien. It’s tight, there’s not as much give as he’s used to, and now he knows why this hurts if it’s not done carefully, and judging by Zack’s sounds, he must be doing something right. That spurs him to movement, slow and careful at first. Then Cloud shifts changing the angle a bit, Zack stroking himself frantically. Zack comes explosively, ropy white covering his thighs and stomach.

But Cloud has a suspicion about the way the drug keeps draining Zack, and so he keeps thrusting, pistoning his hips until he feels himself build and build. Right as he drops over the edge, he collapses over Zack, making sure their whole bodies touch as he comes.

The aftermath leaves him a lot more exhausted than the first time. Cloud only hopes they’re past the worst of it as he cleans himself up, wiping him and Zack off with the still damp towel. But of course, he’s wrong.

Zack blinks, sitting up, and his eyes go past Cloud like he doesn’t even notice him, and then he tackles Cloud, knocking him into the headboard. Cloud grunts from the pain and springs forward in one smooth movement, pinning Zack’s arms above his head at the foot of the bed. That just makes Zack thrash harder, punching and kicking, bucking and biting, and Cloud can’t say that this is his idea of a good time. “Zack, Zack, calm down, I got you,” Cloud says, pitching his voice to be low and soothing. “I got you, you're safe.”

“Hojo!” Zack yells, voice broken. “Where's Hojo? We’ve got to escape, Cloud!”

 _Shit._ This is exactly the last thing they need, flashbacks to the lab. Cloud supposes it’s better than a flashback to the Wastes, but that’s small favours. “He's dead! You're in your flat in Edge,” Cloud says, voice still low.

“The fuck is Edge?” Zack says, and it’s the scariest fucking thing that he doesn’t remember.

Cloud tells it to him straight. He will repeat it a million times if he has to. “You're very sick. I think we took too long between sex, and it drained you a lot faster than we were expecting.”

“S-sex? What are you talking about?” Zack says, confused. And of course Zack doesn’t remember. It’s just Cloud’s luck. Memory loss wasn’t mentioned as a symptom, but if anyone knows about the effects of it, it’s Cloud, and he always appreciates honesty.

Cloud takes a deep breath, still holding Zack down by his wrists, pressing the full length of his body against Zack's as Cloud keeps his hands against his wrists so Zack won’t hurt either of them. “Ifrit’s Kiss, Zack. Someone got you with it. Not Hojo.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,”  Zack breathes in the word.

“Yeah, we've kind of been doing that a lot lately,” Cloud twists his lips in a mockery of a smile. It’s not a particularly funny joke, but he’ll take what he can get, seeing as how Zack gives him a faint smile. “But you aren't in the labs. You got out. You saved me. We’re safe. You're a hero,” Cloud says, trying to make him see how much he's done, that they're okay.

“We're safe?” Zack asks, and his voice is brittle, and Cloud _hates_ it with a fire that _burns_.

“We're safe, Zack,” Cloud says. “I swear.” _On my life. I won't let this take you._

Zack goes limp underneath him. “Okay.” Zack exhales slowly and repeats, “Okay.” He relaxes back into the mattress.

“Zack?” Cloud asks, searching Zack's face. It's so pinched and exhausted, but he looks better than before; there’s a little more colour, now.

“Yeah, Cloud?" Zack looks up at him, and Cloud can see the wear, the lines from stress as close as they are to each other.

He has the sudden urge to kiss them away. “I'm going to kiss you now. Is that all right?” Cloud asks.

Zack doesn't respond for a long moment, and Cloud's afraid he's overstepped his bounds, until Zack wraps his arms around Cloud and pulls him to him, pressing his lips against his, working his mouth. He licks his bottom lip, and Cloud kisses him until neither of them can breathe anymore.  “This is a dream. I know it's a dream,” Zack murmurs against his lips.

Cloud strokes his thumb across Zack's cheek, letting him know through touch, through smell, through sound, through sight. “It's not a dream. I'm right here, Zack.”

“Of course, in this dream, you're usually wearing a négligé,” Zack says, voice thoughtful, tapping his chin.

Cloud’s mind stops, and he has to rewind for a little bit and recalibrate before he comes back to himself. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s worn something like that. And Aerith did give him that gag gift for his birthday, but for Zack to ask...he must have really been hot and bothered by that picture.

How many times has Zack thought about it? Cloud wonders. To have dreamed about it? To even ask? But Cloud doesn't think he can deny Zack anything, not if he’s serious.  So he asks, looking for confirmation, “D-do you want me to? Would that make it easier for you?”

There’s still the issue with touch. But the lingerie Aerith got him is thin and sheer. He still keeps it because he’s loathe to throw away any gift of hers, no matter how teasing, not after he thought she was dead. That’s why he keeps it here, in Zack and Aerith’s home. Saves him the trouble of keeping it in his own.

“Maybe not easier, but it would be really, really hot,” Zack says, waggling his eyebrows. Cloud’s just happy he’s feeling better enough to act more like himself. Cloud knows the drug affects brain chemistry, and mood is a part of that.

Cloud closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then he laughs at himself. Zack’s serious, as much as Zack can ever be serious. Cloud can't say no to that. “Wait here a moment,” Cloud says, moving to his closet. There’s a couple of extra leather outfits, and a faux SOLDIER uniform as is his preference, but in the very back he sees her gift, purple and sheer and mocking.

Shaking his head, he slips it on, turning around and catching Zack leering at him with a wide expectant grin.  “Cloud?”

 _Well, then_. Far be it for Cloud to let _that_ look go to waste. He climbs back into bed, climbs Zack, his thighs cradling Zack's hips as his knees press against the mattress, and wraps his arm around Zack’s neck. “Hmm?”

“You’re amazing. I love you, man,” Zack says, so frank, so honest.

A long silence hangs between them, Zack gazing into his eyes. Cloud wonders if he really means it or if it's the drug talking.  Still, there's a catch in his throat, and his voice comes out hoarse as he says, “I...love you too, Zack.” Cloud punctuates it with a kiss. Zack settles his arms around Cloud’s hips, hugging him, snuggling into his shoulder, resting against his neck. Cloud notices the pull is much less, now, and as he glances over at the clock, it’s been thirty-one hours. It should be leaving his system entirely soon.

“Cloud…?” Zack says, breath hot against his shoulder.

“Yeah?” Cloud hmms, arms around Zack, nesting his hands in Zack’s hair and curling a few damp spikes around his fingers.

“Is this for real?” Zack asks, lifting his head up, searching Cloud’s eyes. “I’m not dreaming, am I?” And there's that look again, warm and hot and intense. It's love, Cloud knows now. Love and trust and a million other things they are to one another.

“Yeah, Zack.” Cloud grabs Zack’s head and moves it to his chest, pulling his ear to the steady beat of heart. “It’s for real.” It’s Cloud's turn to be Zack's anchor.

Cloud pulls them both down on the bed, still holding Zack to his heart, wrapping his leg around his hip and holding him as close as possible, maximizing touch as the remnant of the drug pulls weakly at his skin. Cloud grits his teeth. Bahamut’s Bones, Cloud is exhausted. “You’re not dreaming.”

Zack smiles up at him, and snuggles closer, and Cloud wouldn't have pegged Zack as a cuddler (maybe he should have, given how casual Zack is about touch) but it's nice. Cloud tucks him under his chin which is ridiculous, Zack being a head taller, only to find that Zack has closed his eyes, breath already rhythmic. Cloud looks at the clock again and sighs. They have both been up for ages fighting this thing, and while it hasn't passed thirty-six hours yet, Cloud is willing to believe with how weak the pull is the worst is over.

Cloud lays there for a while, just staring at Zack, running his hand through his hair. Zack is his saviour and his light, and finally Cloud lets himself hope that they've made it through this intact.

He closes his eyes to rest a moment, and the next thing he knows he's hearing Zack's voice as if in a dream.

“Wha— _Cloud_!?”  Cloud shifts at his name, mumbling. He's still half asleep. “There's no way he would—that we would—That I—” Can't Zack just shut up already? He's so tired.

“Cloud,” Zack says, and he sounds lost and scared and so alone as he reaches over to shake Cloud fully awake. “What did I _do_? Oh Gaia, you probably hate me now. What if I—did I—”

That damned amnesia component. “You didn't do anything I didn't want,” Cloud says, voice rough from sleep, lifting himself from the bed. “If anything, I should be asking you that. I said it before. I had a choice. You didn’t.” He sits up, Zack's fear and anxiety working very well to wake him up quickly.

“You could have just let me wait it out, Cloud. I never meant for it to—” And Zack's got such an expression of guilt on his face, when Cloud's the one that took advantage.

“Not an option. Not if your life is at stake. Not ever.” Cloud says. The last thing he needs is for Zack to wallow in his misplaced guilt. He's got to cut that down straight away.

“Cloud—” Zack says, and Cloud really doesn't want to hear justifications or excuses, not now while he’s still raw, so he ignores him and continues talking.

“And I don't regret it, even if you do, no matter what comes from it,” Cloud says, crossing his arms, more hugging himself for comfort than any kind of anger.“I’m only sorry you didn’t have a choice.” He's not what Zack would choose if he had a choice, Cloud knows. Part of it is convenience, part of it is their trust and friendship, but this would have never gotten this far if it wasn't for the drug.

Zack lifts his shoulders in a shrug, letting out a sigh, before opening his arms and making a “come here” gesture. “C’mere, Cloud.”

Cloud moves forward to crawl over Zack, but then he stops, searching his face. Zack sounded horrified, not moments ago. And he's more lucid than he's been since he came back.

“I want you in my life, Cloud. It doesn't matter how, just so long as you're there.” Zack grabs his arm, pulling gently, and Cloud straddles him, wrapping his arms around Zack, nesting his fingers in his hair like before, and then Zack kisses him.

“And Cloud? Just so you know? Don’t think I would ever not want this,” Zack says against his lips, running his hands down Cloud's silken sides and wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Zack licks his lip, asking for permission, biting and tugging at it gently, and Cloud yields to him. Cloud can't take that for truth. Not now, not yet, maybe not ever.

But Cloud doesn't feel a strong pull anymore on his lifeforce; it’s a dull throb against his skin, now. Barely even palpable. Zack’s still kissing him, and he grinds down into Zack unconsciously, and like a dream, the heat courses through Cloud, so unfamiliar, so strong, and he lets out a moan, which causes Zack to pull Cloud against him, and then they're kissing and rocking against one another until neither one can breathe.

Zack’s face is flushed, his pupils blown, his lips wet and bruised. “Zack, I’m sorry if I—” Cloud starts, but Zack interrupts him, running his fingers through Cloud's hair and ruffling his spikes.

Zack sighs, then stretches out over the mattress, patting the empty space next to him.  “C’mere.” Zack pulls him over gently by the wrist, and Cloud lays down, resting his head against his shoulder.

“I just wish I could remember clearly,” Zack says as he tightens his arms around Cloud’s waist and pulls him closer.

“What?” Cloud doesn't understand. Wouldn't it be better to forget?

“It's a shame I missed it. I mean, I know it was life threatening and all, but judging by the way you look, it just had to be really great sex, that's all.” And Zack sounds so wistful. Looking down at his own bruise-covered chest, what was bare of it anyway, Cloud can only imagine.

“Yeah, it was,” Cloud admits because it _was_.

“ _And_ I somehow got you into a négligé. You're going to have to tell me how I did that so I can repeat the process.” Zack sounds so smug, Cloud can’t decide if he wants to punch him or kiss him.

He does neither. “For you, I’d do anything,” Cloud says honestly. And it wasn’t just Zack. People said he had a cold exterior, but they just didn’t know what he would do for the people that have touched his heart. And Shiva, Cloud must be exhausted if he’s actually admitting it, even to himself.

Zack reaches over with his other hand and puts it over his heart, clutching it in mock pain. “Ow, my heart. Who just comes right out and says that?”

And Cloud feels a sharp stab of hurt at that, and he feels his face twist into a familiar scowl. He's not used to being vulnerable, not to anyone but Vincent given how anticipatory Tifa is. He and Zack never really had that kind of relationship before, that he could be this emotionally vulnerable and not have to fear reprisal. He shouldn't be surprised, he guesses.

But before Cloud can respond, he adds “I'm just teasing, Raincloud, don’t look so grumpy. I’d do the same thing, just so you know.”

“Yeah?” Cloud asks. Zack wants to play the name game, Cloud can totally do that. “Would you, Fair-weather?” The look Zack sends him makes it totally worth it.

“Mmhm,” Zack says, leaning down for another kiss, which Cloud accepts. Zack tightens his arms around Cloud, resting his face against his jaw and nuzzling him, scraping Cloud's skin with his light stubble. It actually feels kind of nice. “I totally would. Cloud?”

“Hmm?” Cloud asks. Cloud’s falling asleep; the warmth and the exhaustion are too much, and he can’t say he’s exactly fighting to stay awake.

“How would you define us?” _And where the hell did that come from?_

Cloud makes a noise of consideration, trying to buy for time because he doesn’t know what to say, taking Zack’s hand in his. “Do we have to be defined?” And really? Zack hasn’t brought up Aerith even once since this started, and there’s no telling the psychological effect the drug has had on him, not since Cloud’s had to explain things twice. So this is a loaded question in more ways than one. They’re on shaky ground here; Even if Zack doesn’t realize it, Cloud does.

“Cloud!” Zack whines. “ _Please_.” And there's something else to that, something Zack's not telling him, more than insecurity—it almost sounds desperate.

So Cloud kisses him on top of his head to reassure him, to let him know everything’s all right. It might not be when they wake up again, but it is now, and that’s all that matters. “Friends, then. Always.”

“Friends?” Zack says like it's not enough, which is a little unfair. Zack is his _everything_ in a lot of ways, and the sex doesn't matter. Friendship is **not** less. It never has been.

Cloud does add a qualifier, though. “Best friends. Everything else is just dressing, Zack. It doesn’t matter what you call it.”

Zack grabs Cloud's hand, running their fingers together, holding it tight against Cloud's waist like it's some kind of lifeline. “Friends, then. No matter what.”

Cloud kisses his scar, pleased that he understands, moving his lips slowly down Zack’s jawline until he rests his face in the crook of Zack's neck. “No matter what.”

He falls into oblivion.

Cloud next wakes to find his position has shifted, that they've both rolled over and he's wrapped protectively around Zack. He doesn't feel the pull at all, but Zack is warm, and nice, and Cloud nuzzles a little bit into Zack's back.

He feels someone shaking him, and he glances up sleepily to see that it's Aerith. “Cloud, Cloud; is everything all right?” There's fear in her tone.

Cloud sits up, immediately missing Zack's warmth, and blinks. “Aerith?”  it's just Aerith, and he starts to lean back, to relax, and then Cloud realises that he's in bed with her boyfriend after a night of exhausting hot sex, and what it must look like to the outside, and Aerith is his friend too, so he jerks up and says “Aerith, I can explain—”

“I know, silly. How is he? What happened?” And all his protests and excuses fall to the way side, and her first concern is for Zack's health, and her eyes hold concern and not judgement.

Cloud can’t help but look at Zack, frown tugging at his lips. “He’ll live. Ifrit’s Kiss, they call it. Someone got him with it. Gives you uncontrollable lust that drains and burns you out from the inside, unless you can wait it out or have someone ‘share’ your life force. Apparently, it’s usually deadly in the first case.”

“And sex is a very vital act; it creates life; the Lifestream never flows stronger in a living being than during coitus,” Aerith says, hand rubbing her chin. “That makes sense.”

Cloud blinks, because how can she sit there so calmly saying things like that? That it was the _Lifestream_ that drove the pull away? How is she so casual about finding Cloud and Zack together?

“If you say so. There's an amnesia component,” Cloud says, ignoring his confused and racing thoughts. “Every time he wakes up, he doesn’t remember much. Except for the last...He seemed a little more aware. I still figured it was better if he didn't wake up alone.” He runs his fingers through Zack's hair because it's nice and soothing, and his hair is soft, and things would be better if he just didn't have to think.

“And the nightie?” Aerith says, and there’s warmth and affection in her voice and a little bit of incredulity in her eyes, but it’s softened with humour.

 _Odin_ , Cloud doesn’t want to answer it, but he will, and he can feel his face heating up, but he says anyway. “Zack really appreciated me in it.” Because really, when he puts it like that it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Still, he relaxes almost completely as she kisses his forehead; it’s almost like absolution, and Cloud desperately needs it. “Thank you for taking care of him while I was gone, Cloud.”

“I’ll get dressed, I’ll go, now that you're here,” Cloud’s exhausted and it takes an absurd amount of effort for him to move; he steps out of bed and nearly stumbles, movements entirely uncoordinated, and he stands there, hand on the headboard, unsure. But he takes a step. And then another, and then his legs nearly give out.

“No, stay.” Aerith says, catching his arm to keep him steady. Her eyes say _please_.

“Aerith—” Cloud pleads himself because he can’t. He wasn’t meant to be here in the first place and Zack’s safe—She's not judging him; he’s doing enough of that to himself, but somehow it makes him more wary. He’s not running away, he could never do that to them, they’re both some of his dearest friends, but he needs time. This whole thing, the unexpected sexual attraction where before there had been nothing but friendship, the sex itself, almost losing him, the amnesia, the aftermath—it’s almost too much for Cloud to bear, and it kills him to admit it, even to himself. But he doesn’t lie to himself anymore.

“He needs you. I need you. He’ll want to understand.” And she kisses him again on top of his head.  “Stay with us,” she pulls up a chair and sits down. “We'll worry about it later, alright?”

Cloud collapses back on the bed, utterly defeated by her gentle earnest plea, “All right,” he says after a brief pause.

“And Cloud?” Aerith says, grabbing his hand and running her thumb over the back of it, right next to a shrapnel scar.

“Yeah?” He’s just so tired.

She squeezes it firmly. “Thanks again.”

And they both settle back to wait. It's an awkward silence, one he finds he doesn't much like, but there's nothing for it. He watches her, the faint crow’s feet tugging at the corner of her eyes, the slight frown on her lips.

Cloud stands back up, and after a waving away a questioning glance from Aerith, moves to the closet to pull on a pair of black canvas trousers and a SOLDIER style zip jumper; he’s not going to spend another moment longer in that flimsy piece of fabric no matter how nice it feels against his skin. He does make sure to hang it carefully and check it for stains, then returns to the bed, sitting on the edge.

Aerith gives him a knowing smile, ignoring his brief nudity and goes back to watching Zack. “You know, I never did expect you to really wear it.”

“Zack asked me to,” Cloud says, and he’s not exactly defensive, but he doesn’t know where she’s coming from.

“He would,” Aerith says. “He has...interesting tastes.”

“Interesting is a word for it,” Cloud allows. He folds his hands together. “Aerith, how can you take this so easily?” He asks because she’s not even angry, and he’s floundering, a bit.

“Well, Zack’s always been a bit of a flirt. Mostly, he doesn’t mean anything by it, but I’d never want to cage him in any way.” Aerith lets out a sigh. “He’s like that for me as well. It’s give and take. And a long time ago, we both decided to be open in our relationships as long as we told each other.  This was a little different, but I understand. You’ve always been special to him, and you saved his life. What are you going to tell Tifa?” Her gaze is sharp, and it’s like she looks through him. It’s the first time she’s been anything approaching hostile.

Cloud blinks. “I’ve already told her. She said it was okay.” And he hears the edge come into his voice, the rising bit of bewilderment and panic, and he tries to go back to an indifferent mask, but it’s Aerith and he’s _exhausted._ “She said she knew it was coming.”

Aerith smiles then. “I think everyone did.” She starts to say more, but then a noise from the bed has them both turning. “Zack, how are you feeling?”

He sits up, groaning, putting a palm to his head. “Like I just went six rounds against a Nibel Dragon.”

Aerith giggles. “You kind of look it.”

“I had this crazy dream that I—Cloud!” Zack says, finally catching sight of him.

Cloud inclines his head. “Zack.”

“It wasn't a dream, was it?” Zack asks, eyes locked on the kiss mark underneath Cloud's jaw the turtleneck doesn't quite hide.

Cloud shakes his head. “No."

Inexplicably, Zack blushes and looks down, not wanting to meet Cloud's eyes. Cloud crosses his arms and shifts.

Aerith rolls her eyes. “Just kiss already and make up. This is embarrassing to watch.” Both boys look away from each other, Zack darkening even an even further red. He scratches the back of his head and laughs nervously. She crosses her arms herself. “I’m serious.” That's about as close to explicit permission as Cloud's ever heard.

“Aerith—” Zack starts to protest, but Cloud interrupts.

“What do _you_ want, Zack?” Cloud asks, bumping Zack’s shoulder with his own.

And there must be something about his tone of voice or his words because Zack leans over to rest his head on Cloud’s shoulder. Cloud stills, Zack’s breath hot on his neck as he feels a familiar stirring. Cloud grits his teeth; they’re not even doing anything! At least it confirms it wasn’t a secondary effect of the drug. He closes his eyes and breathes in, willing it to go away because it’s just a shoulder touch and Aerith is _right there._ He holds it for a moment before breathing out slowly. When he opens his eyes again at the loss of warmth, it’s to find Zack looking at him, brow furrowed.

“Your eyes,” Zack murmurs, surprised. "They're blown. " And then he reaches over with his hand, touching his hair, unzipping his turtleneck, and ghosting his hands down his neck. Cloud feels his pulse jump, his heart beating faster in anticipation as Zack’s hand trails back up, stopping at his pulse point. “I do this to you,” Zack says in wonder. “Man, you know how to make a guy feel good,” and his voice is low, hoarse with arousal.

It should be awkward, but it's not.

Cloud doesn’t say anything else, but Zack’s lips are parted, and he’s looking at Cloud’s own, and his eyes are half-lidded as they’re pulled towards one another by some irresistible, unseen force, and then they’re kissing, hard, intense, Zack’s hands on his face,  mouths moving against each other, tongues twining. Cloud’s hands go around Zack’s neck, and Zack leans back against the headboard, pulling Cloud into his lap. It’s awkward and must be uncomfortable, but Zack doesn’t seem to care.  Cloud kisses him for a bit longer before pulling away and asking breathlessly, “Is that a yes?”

“Hell yeah,” Zack says, just as breathless.

Aerith laughs and shakes her head, her smile beaming.

And it’s not perfect, there are so many things they have yet to talk about, and it’s not perfect, but it’s a start.

It’s a start.


End file.
